The doctor said, ‘brain tumor,’ but those two words vanished as she added, ‘six months to live,’ and ‘immediate treatment.’ To make matters worse, a deadly Zombie virus was been making the global rounds.
He had a decision to make and he had to be quick about it.
It was easy, slipping into the isolation ward of the hospital. All he had to do was find a supply closet, put on the surgical scrubs, then walk-in like he knew what he was doing.
Strapped to a bed, eyes darting, teeth gnashing, was a man. He offered him his bare forearm.
The Old Blog in the Desert 
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